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Be Outta Da Shower in A Flash

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Be Outta Da Shower in A Flash by pokitrockitI was minding my own business, taking care of it, so to speak when you suddenly get this sensation that someone is looking at you. Well, that creepy eyeball feeling was overwhelming me so I glanced around, and there he was! Lean and lithe, a medium build sort of lad with tussled hair standing nude in front of the wall wide mirror admiring himself and looking over his shoulder in the mirror at me. Ive never minded the sideways glances of other men bearing down on me with those prying eyes, but this one was kinda different. The eyes were absorbing, everything about me without really making a statement or suggestion, just taking me in in spite of myself. He had a heady look about him as his daydream allowed him to drift, the dank smell of the lockerroom fueling the fantasy taking place in real time right there in his face. He had nicely rounded masculine features, the curves of muscles disappearing into tight folds as he strained with hands reaching over his shoulders to scratch his back and further tightening the six-pack ripple in his lower torso. Then...the dick. Perfect in every respect, nice hues, healthy shiny patch of pubes glistening above that meaty looking stalk of dangling cock, overshadowing a ballsack plumping up the rear. A picture postcard I thought, a shiny 4x6 hard card stock lithograph suitable for framing. Well I dont know, maybe it was the damp clinginess of my after workout underwear, bearing stains of a couple days wear, the exposure of buttcheeks on the bend, a strained pouch. He didnt take his eyes off of them. I grabbed a towel and moved along as if unaware of trailing eyes, and headed into the sepia tone tile showeroom where a line had formed awaiting the frothy bodies turn at the rinse. The stinking dank armpits of exercisers refreshed anew with gobs of Dial soap, lickably clean. Oil changing I say, out with the bad, in with the new...squeaky clean hair, ultratight curly patches, and finer hairs trailing in the drip, fluffed by the towels as they shiver to dry off in the process. Its always fun to watch the shy guys, those who make sure not one iota of sex can be seen by any other bather; and then there are those, who from such self confidence, stand there with dong forever for all to see. Are these invitations? My turn surfaces, so I take position at the hook, and strip those longleg Hanes off one leg and off with the other, fluffing them to hang neatly crotch forward on the peg. The bitter cool spray of the shower stings as the water feel adjusts from coolest to warmer and I jump right in, pulling the generous curtain behind me. The soap lather is slick and feels good with the heat of the water. Standing there under the pulses feels so relaxing, and the soapy bubbles trail downward into the drain. While standing there soaping up my hair and face, I feel these arms encircling me from behind, squinting through the bubbly film to see another has joined me inside the stall, where now this becomes our secret, two in one stall hidden from view but in the middle of the mens showeroom! At first fear upsets my heart, but the supportive cradle of the arms holding me far outweigh fear of discovery. I lean into his torso, like a dog bearing down on the scratch, and feel his cooler unit in the crack of my butt, a strange sensation being all wet. So I just surrendered into his arms as they wafted over my chest and stomach holding me tight and slickly gliding with the soap. He didnt speak, and I didnt turn around, just stood there while he held me in the slippery grasp. His hands were smoothly silking my pecs and tits, and rubbing my stomach and his torso gently glided in contact with my soapy backside. The hands tired of tits and alternated to my balls and dickshaft where gentle squeezes fattened the stack, rising with every pulse. His hand alternately squeegeed up my cock, pulling the skin forward in bunches as it buckled over the firming cockhead. It felt lovely, some stranger in the back culling from me obedience as I stood there in submission. One hand lightly stroking and tugging downward on my balls, and the other encircling my cocks length which was by now bursting to the limits my cockstick could grow. His body leaning onto mine, and mine blending into his, a mouth on my neck gently sucking at the shoulder seeking a taste of my bodies brine. The luxurious fleshy feel of his hand on my swollen cock, and the downward tug of my nuts was deliciously erotic and quickly caused surrender to the rising passion in my cockroot. The resultant tingle bunched as it was brought forward, snapping over the head of my dick in his more feverish grip. So I moaned. I didnt think too loudly, but it was, so I coughed quickly to mask the suspicions it might have drawn. I tried to flow with his hands and keep my mouth shut as he continued to tug and stroke at my aching wet member. By now I could feel his hard cock on the crest of my buttcheeks as he stood there rubbing me with his hands and my back with his cock, sliding in a semicircle, syncopating the move ments of his hands which became almost too intense under the slippery grip. It was too much. I could feel my cock getting hot and the tingling intensity rising up from the root. It seemed as if the slippery hand was sliding easier over my dick, my precum flowing like a premium oil on the works. The tingling grew increasingly stronger and he could feel me lightly flexing to the slippery grip and the tug and pull. And then, too much...no turning back, not wanting to turn back, the sensations strength buckling my resistance into uncon ditional surrender. And he sensed my crossing and increased the strength and speed his slippery hand worked at my cock. It was over, no more control as I jerked up on toe tips and sucked in a deep breath while my body tensed up, lumbering the firmness into his torso. My cock already jerking in his palm as I felt the hot spew coming up the tube and forcefully exiting the reddened cockhead in lunging spurts. It was forever, I could have stood there forever as his hand added punch to my boxing cockhead. As the last of the milky fluid drained I felt the hot spew on my backside as he jerked from the clutching squeeze of his empassioned embrace. When the strength of the hold relaxed, he held me gently as the water cascaded over two who defied the world behind a simple opaque shower curtain. I felt his member soften and nudge my cheeks, and quickly he turned and exited the stall. I guess it was less messy that way, avoiding conversation that might taint the fantasy just lived. I lathered up again, to rinse the passionate sweat down the drain, wondering who might be waiting to see my exit from the stall, whom might have vicariously received this spectacle from behind drawn curtain. I guess Ill never know.

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